30 HE-A THY LANDSCAPE- WITH DORMOUSE- " W ELL, Leo, dear-here we are, aU settled and comfort- able!" :VIrs. Leslie, sitting on the ground, removed a couple of burs from her stocking and looked round on a flattish expanse of heath. "\Vhat heav- en' Not a soul in sight." As though re- inforcing this statement, an owl hooted from a clump of alders. People born into the tradition of Eng- lish country life are accustomed to ec- centric owls. Mrs. Leslie and her daugh- ter Belinda accepted the owl wIth vaguely acknowledging smiles. Her son- in-law, Leo Cooper, a Londoner whose contacts with nature had been made at the very expensIve pleasure resorts pa- tronized by his very rich parents, found ll1idday hoots disconcerting, and almost said so. But did not, as he was just then in a temper and wholly engaged in not showing it. He was in a tell1per for several rea- sons, all eminently adequate. For one thing, he had had a most unsatisfac- tory night with Belinda; for another, impelled by the nervous appetite of frustration, he had eaten a traditional country breakfast and it was disagreeIng with him; for yet another, he had been haled out on yet another of his mother- in-law's picnics; finally, there was the picnic basket. The picnic basket wa a fa111ily piece, dating, as Mrs. Leslie said on its every appear- ance, from an age of footmen. It was the size of a cabin trunk, built for eternity out of red wicker, equipped with massy cutlery and crock- ery; time had sharpened its red fangs, and how- ever Leo took hold of it, the) lacerated him. }\.lso it caused him acute em- barrassment to be seen carrying thI rattling, creaking monstrosity, and today he had carried it farther than usual. The car was left where the track crossed a cattle bridge, and from there Mrs. LeslIe staggered unernngly over a featureless stretch of rough ground to the exact place where they always pic- nicked because it was there that Belinda as a little girl had found a dormouse. "Yes, it was Just here-by these par- ticular whin bushes. Do you remember, darling ? You were five." "I thought I was six." "No, five. Because Uncle Henry was ,,:vith us that day, and next year he had that gun accident-God rest his soul! " , Having crossed herself with a sigh, and allowed tI111e for the sigh's implica- tions to sink in, Mrs. LesEe pulled the picnic basket toward her and began fidgetIng at the "traps. "Let me'" eÀ- cLtimed Leo, unable to endure the in- tensified creakings, and at the same moment BeEnda said, "I wilL" She did-with the same negligent dexterity she showed in every activity but the act of love. Out came the plates and the cutlery and the mugs and the homemade ginger beer and the paste sandwiches and the lettuce sandwiches and the hard-boiled eggs; out came the cakes they had spLcially stopped to buy at Unwin the grocer's, because his old aunt made them and it was so nIce and right of him to let her feel useful still. Out, too, a few minutes later, came the ants and the flies and those large predatory bluebottles that materialize from solitary places like depraved desert fathers. "Brutes! Go away! How Celia used to swear at bluebottles! Poor Celia, I miss her to this day.)) "Leo will think we have a great many dead relations," said Belinda. She glanced at him-a friendlier glance; as If she had temporarily forgotten who he was, thought Leo, and was ready to give him the kindness one extends to a stranger. "We've got a whole, new, live one now," said her mother . "We've L " got eo. He had thought nghtly. The glance hardened to a stare. Replaced in his role of husband, he appealed no longer. "There's thdt owl dgain," he said. "Is it usual for owls to hoot by day? Isn't it supposed to be a bad omen? " " " . , ' .. J , "F rightfully." Belin- da's voice was so totally expressionless that it scalded him like an insult. He said with studied indifference, "Never mind! I expect it's too late to do anything ahout It." She continued to stare at him, and he stared back into her unreceiving eyes. Clear and round and wide-set, Belinda's eyes had the fataEstic melancholy of the eyes of hawks and hunting cats. Seeing her as a caged puma, silent, withdrawn in a stately sulk, turning her back on the public and on the bars of her cage, he had fallen in love with her at first sight. "Belinda Leslie. . . . Better look while SEPTEMDER " 1 9 (, 2. you may; It'S your only chance. She's in London for a week, being a bridesmaid, and then she'll go back to live with her widowed Mum in a molderIng grange, and never get out agaIn. She's one of those sacrificial daughters. . . . I believe the North of England's full of them." A month later, she had snatched at his offer of marriage as though it were a still warm partridge; yes, exactly as though it were a still warm partridge- snatching the meat, ignoring the hand. So wild for liberty, he thought; later, she will love. But halfway through their honeymoon she insIsted on p]ning for home, even on pining for her mother; so they travelled back to Snewdon and were welcomed as both her dear chil- dren by rs. Leslie. Before I get away, he thought, and later on revised this to, If ever I get away, she will have ewn labels of "Leo Leslie" on all my under- clothes. Yet he felt a sneaking liking for her; she was always polite to him, and he was young. Since then, three appalling weeks had passed. The weather was flawless; gooseberries appeared at every meal. There was no male society except for the deaf-and-dumb gardener and two rams who pastured on the former tennis court. Thev went now here except for picnics in the neighborhood. Every picnicking place had associations. If he tried to escape the assocjations by sug- gestions of going farther afield in his swifter car, this merely provoked other picnics and more of the rattles and joltings of the falllily conveyance. And all the time things Were as bad as ever between him and Belinda, and the only allevIation In their relationshIp was that he was now beginning to feel bored by it. "I suppose that owl is al1 old admirer of yours. \Vhen does he produce the small guitar? After dark?" (For a little time, because of her melancholy, Inerci- less eyes, he had called her Pussy. ) "I loathe Lear." "DarEng! " To soften the rebuke in her voice, Mrs. Leslie offered her daughter a hard-boiled egg, whIch was rejected. Turning to Leo, she said, "Be- linda and I do a lot of bird watching. We get such interesting migrants here- quite unexpected ones, sometimes." Belinda gave a brIef, wounding laugh. "Blown off their course, I suppose," said Leo. "I see I must learn about birds. " "Oh, you should! It makes such a difference. There have been times when they were really my only sup- port. Of course, I have always loved them. Quite the first book I remember is 'The History of the Robins.' Flapsy)